My little brother is just finishing up his freshman year of college, so I hauled my boys up there last week to take him out to lunch. After lunch, we get in the car and he says “Well, we survived that, I guess”.
I looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never been out to eat with those two before!” he joked. Those two meaning my 3 1/2 year old and almost 2-year old.
Dude. You’re in college. You mean to tell me that when you go out to eat with your friends, they don’t dump water on the floor, dump water on the booth next to yours, throw their silverware, insist on grabbing the red pepper flakes at every turn, tell everyone to “BE QUIET” so they can watch Yo Gabba Gabba that’s on across the room, have to go potty twice in 5 minutes, try to lick the front door of the restaurant or eat marinara sauce straight out of the bowl with their fingers?
They don’t get home and paint their nails shiny gold because “They wanted it to look pretty”?
They don’t go to the grocery store and throw all your groceries out of the cart, including a bottle of soy sauce that explodes?
They don’t take all the books off your shelves just because “We wanted to read them”?
Well, dear brother, your friends don’t sound like much fun. Welcome to my birth control seminar for college kids, yours free at Pizza Hut today. Welcome to life with a toddler. Or two.